Chapter 108 - Low-Level Mage Doping

Before long, our Supreme Mages trio came upon an enormous, open complex. A spacious parking lot surrounded a large, low, sprawling building, unlike most buildings in the Republic of Korea. With almost no fog, we had glimpsed it even before leaving the alley, but once we were about a block away, we could make it out clearly.

"Is that some kind of baseball stadium?"

"It appears to be Seongnam Sports Complex."

"The capital region really is a nice place to live. Even has a great big stadium like this."

After hearing Na-in and the pastor's explanations, I turned away. Seongnam Sports Complex still bore unmistakable signs of military occupation. Sandbags were piled at every entrance, scattered about with abandoned ammunition cans. Had they used it as a makeshift helipad or a staging area for troops?

Unfortunately, we weren't afforded the leisure to inspect the interior.

The ground shook. A heavy vibration traveled up through my soles, seemed to clutch the flesh of my thighs and tap gently at my pelvis and hip bones, and shook the hem of my poncho. It took no magic or keen observation to know.

The shelling had begun.

Then a piercing sound, like something delicately slicing into my eardrums, cut across Seongnam's sky.

FWEEEEESH.

A shell. An artillery shell was slicing through the air. Naturally, all three of us looked up. We couldn't actually see it flying, of course; we simply entertained the absurd hope that it might split the clouds.

It gave us an appreciation for just how terrifying modern weapons systems, conceived and refined to kill people, truly were.

BOOM.

The ground shook again. I instinctively stepped back to brace myself and felt the full weight of my poncho's hem billowing despite the complete absence of wind. Explosives meant to demolish some concrete building somewhere were raining from the sky.

At the same time, the buzzing of a swarm of hornets reached us through the impacts of the shells.

"Drones."

"I can tell without you saying it."

I stared up at the sky, feeling slightly deflated. As if the bombardment had been their signal, drones rose from hiding between buildings. Countless quadcopters, their gun barrels glinting, flew toward the subway station, and even a large drone resembling a stubby airplane appeared in the distance.

Seeing in person what I'd only seen in YouTube and Twitter videos filled me with all sorts of anguish.

Drones: the new paradigm of twenty-first-century warfare, the crowning glory of high-tech combat. Could our enemies survive with so many pouring down on them? What if they all fucking died? If suicide drones blew my precious remains to bits, what would happen to my chance to level up?

That was when a loud noise reached us. Not shellfire or buzzing drones, but a human voice amplified through a loudspeaker.

["We are advancing along Sanseong Boulevard! Civilians and stragglers, hold your positions and do not approach! Anyone approaching will be shot! No rescue!"]

The ground shook once more. This time it wasn't the aftermath of shelling. Footsteps and the weight of armored vehicles' rolling wheels and tracks pounded the ground, sending accumulated dust spilling across the sports grounds.

But something else put our trio on edge.

["Citizens in northern Seongnam, take NBC precautions! Three minutes until chemical munitions deployment!"]

Breathing tear gas: an experience almost everyone who'd served in the military had gone through at least once.

I vividly remembered my mask's worn-out chin strap refusing to tighten properly during NBC training. I'd sucked in all that tear gas and streamed tears and snot. But there was no way the chemical munitions they were deploying now would be mere tear gas.

I hurriedly removed my gas mask to inspect it. I didn't know how long Hand, Stage Two, [Enchant] would last. Just to be safe, I drew my bayonet and cut my left hand.

SLICE!

With the blood that flowed out, I quickly inscribed [Purification] on the mask. Putting it back on filled my nose with a nauseating mixture of raw rubber and blood, but that was a hundred, a thousand times better than choking to fucking death on something like VX gas.

I held my dripping left hand out toward Na-in and the pastor.

"Your masks."

"Here."

"Please."

I inscribed [Purification] on each one. Since time was short, I decided to erase the cut on my hand with Eye, Stage Three, [Cognitive Dissonance].

Naturally, the price came swiftly. When I closed my eyes and opened them again, I felt abnormally high pressure in one eye. It was definitely open, but it ached faintly, and no amount of staring brought things into clear focus. Even lifting the eyelid produced a sting bordering on coldness. Turning my head while opening each eye in turn confirmed it.

The vision in my right eye had deteriorated.

When I swung my head from side to side with only my right eye open, I felt my brain throb in protest: it had been correcting what I saw using my memories. A temporary price, but not one I could ignore.

Good thing I'd learned to shoot with both eyes open.

Our preparations complete, the three of us exchanged quick glances and moved out. We headed for the road in front of the apartments below the sports complex, while the surviving military force proceeded up the main road, shouting through loudspeakers.

["Chemical munitions deployed! Gas, gas, gas!"]

The amplified voices receded into the distance. What any individual could perceive on a battlefield was extremely limited. All we could do was walk faster than usual with our weapons raised to our shoulders or held ready. Now and then we saw unidentified smoke rising beyond the apartments, and corpses scorched by fire leaning against building walls.

After cutting across the area around the sports complex and entering a neighborhood of low-rise apartment buildings, we were greeted by abandoned cars and heaps of garbage.

I glanced at Na-in, who gave me a thumbs-up to signal that we were clear. Apparently he was using hand signals out of consideration for the pastor, who couldn't use telepathy. Rather than finding fault with him, I focused.

Then, the moment I stepped on a snack wrapper that had fluttered down from a garbage heap, a sharp intake of breath came from a shadowy corner beyond the window frame of an unlit apartment.

CLACK.

I reflexively raised my weapon and aimed. At that instant, Na-in caught its barrel.

"An ordinary civilian."

An ordinary civilian. Na-in had called them ordinary.

Could you really call someone ordinary when they still hadn't awakened magic with the world falling apart? As someone who remembered how ruthless society had been before 2028, I found the expression laughable. People who called you useless trash if you were bad at your job and a social orphan if you didn't work were suddenly so kind to people who couldn't use magic. I didn't get it.

If you still hadn't learned magic, you weren't ordinary. You were a non-mage. Put your hand on your heart and remember what people in this country used to say about those without ability. This was a country that mocked welfare recipients as parasites. If you couldn't even clap properly despite not knowing magic, you were non-mage scum.

Whether you lacked talent or connections or grew up in miserable circumstances... As if they'd ever bothered taking any of that shit into account before.

I lowered my muzzle and examined the corner the sound had come from. The window seemed to have shattered long ago, its sharp fragments scattered in the alley below.

Two thoughts occurred to me. With that little protection, they'd inhale gas and die. And since they were still alive, the gas hadn't spread here yet. Therefore, my gas-mask filter, reinforced by the [Purification] enchantment, was still at 100% capacity.

Clicking my tongue, I made a suggestion to Na-in and the pastor.

"From now on, let's say non-mages instead of ordinary civilians."

"Why? What's the problem, Je-min?"

"I'm ordinary too."

I rejoined the formation and followed Na-in. In mage combat, having him take point with his superior detection was far better than leading myself. He would detect danger, I would improvise a response, and we'd benefit from the pastor's luck buff through [Soteriological Conviction].

We'd put this lineup together without much thought, but it was pretty good. We might lack firepower against monsters, but people died when shot. Finding the other side first gave you an overwhelming advantage.

It wasn't long before Na-in proved his worth. Anyone at a lower stage than an ear mage could have their mind read. And Na-in, the highest-stage ear mage outside the cordon, warned us as soon as he detected a human presence in range. While we were walking down an alley between apartment buildings, he stopped and raised his left fist, speaking quickly but clearly.

"Unit 55."

We instinctively crouched and checked all around us. Dark apartment windows, the railings of exterior concrete staircases, rooftops, the interiors of abandoned cars... I swept them swiftly, moving my gaze while concentrating on my left eye rather than my flickering right one.

A single thought repeated methodically in my mind. Strategic allocation of pain. Appropriate distribution within the limits of what I could bear.

So instead of using tongue magic, I used only Eye, Stage One, [Future Sight: Ten Seconds Ahead]. The Gangnam group were lunatics who deployed monsters tactically and strategically. Naturally, I had to prepare for a possible monster attack. Given their ambush tactic of using human slimes to neutralize ear mages, they might have a few more counters up their sleeves.

While I scanned, the pastor awkwardly crouched behind a car and uttered a brief prayer. He murmured too softly for me to make it out.

Only a few seconds had passed. Our human detector, Na-in, slung his rifle over his shoulder, adjusted his headset, and turned toward us, his cross-marked poncho fluttering.

"They intend to attack the troops moving up Sanseong Boulevard. They couldn't follow us. They lost us. They're short on personnel, so attacking the regular troops is their immediate priority."

"What about our special forces?"

"I think they're there, but if they let us know that, they wouldn't be special forces."

A wise answer to a stupid question. I couldn't argue. That was when the pastor lifted his head.

"The military's moving to draw attention away from us. We have to move. If we're late, those boys will die."

"We could take the safe route without the risk. If we let the military draw out Yellow-Bandage and Velcro's magic, we'd have an easier time fighting them."

"Je-min, they might instead have people who use human sacrifices, like that devil in ski goggles. They know far more than we do. We're in no position to talk about outmaneuvering them."

Help the military: two votes. Use the military as bait to gather more information: one.

I clicked my tongue inwardly, but part of me knew Na-in had a point. Sacrificing lives to gather information was pointless if it only gave the enemy more breathing room. Besides, getting shot would hurt like hell and kill me too. If we could all shoot together, helping the professional gun-toting non-mages secure numerical superiority was the right move.

"Fine. Our country's a democracy. Let's do democracy."

The decision was made. Na-in unslung his rifle and took it in his hands again, while the pastor quietly got up. As I raised my own weapon and drew it close, the pastor patted my shoulder and spoke solemnly.

"Je-min. People are measured by their achievements, not their talent. And there is no greater achievement than saving a human life. Even a single life holds free will and the breath of the Lord."

I gave a faint snort of laughter.

"What's the point of thinking about saving lives when we're going to shoot people dead?"

"They've already fallen for the devil's temptations. I'd like to give them a chance to repent, but more lives are at stake. It can't be helped. In my heart, I'd like to save them... But you have to know what's possible, Je-min."

"Yes, yes. I'll listen to the sermon later."

I was a filthy, despicable human being, but at least I didn't justify my murders with some grand noble cause. That was the biggest difference between the Jesus-freak duo, each wrapped up in his own sense of mission, and me, Baek Je-min, selfishly pursuing my greed.

The pastor clicked his tongue and turned away. Na-in looked back, shrugged, and faced forward again.

And our Supreme Mages trio began the pursuit.

Our poncho hems swayed as we passed through the alleys. Whenever I felt a gaze and aimed my muzzle toward it, the shadows of a bleak room beyond a window greeted us. Soundless, sobbing breaths overlapped our own breathing through our mask filters.

Then we began hearing gasps. We had entered an area where gas had been dispersed. What truly brought that home was a chilling sign of life near an intersection we'd passed.

The sounds alone painted a picture. Someone struggling to shove fingers down a throat filled with swelling bloody foam, failing to get their hand in, then flailing their limbs in convulsions and knocking down a pile of objects with a crash.

What did that person look like, twitching beneath the fallen objects before slowly growing still? A man? A woman? Elderly? Middle-aged? A child?

I didn't know. All I knew for certain was that they were dead.

The pastor's steps briefly faltered. I didn't touch him or say anything to snap him out of it. Instead, I let out one deep breath.

Huff.

At the brief hiss unique to a gas mask, the pastor tightened his grip on his K2. Na-in had already noticed his hesitation and slowed his pace.

"Na-in."

"Yes?"

"Don't worry about me. Let's go."

"Heh... Yes."

The pastor gripped his K2 again and strode forward firmly, and our group began picking up speed. Just after we passed a church and a convenience store came into view, Na-in raised his left hand in a V sign.

"The pastor and I will stick together. Je-min, go inside the apartment buildings. Let's advance together while you use your holy-war arts to neutralize the interiors and nearby rooftops."

Split up even further?

It seemed ridiculous, but I focused just in case, and Na-in's telepathy came through clearly.

'They have an ear mage too. Ear magic can only hear mages at lower stages than its user. They can't hear you or me. Assuming they can hear the pastor's thoughts the way I can, he'll be the only one they can detect.'

Could we really pull off a diversion with so few people?

'Unit 55 is short on numbers too. Besides, when gunfire starts, friendly drones will come to investigate. To avoid exposure to drones and artillery, they have to strike hard and fast, pull back, and keep changing positions. Even without magic, the military is an organization built to kill. Once it takes control of the area, higher-stage holy-war practitioners like us can move while overwhelming the enemy. You and I can also coordinate much more easily through telepathy like this.'

Got it. We'd turn the tables and launch one-sided ambushes against the bastards who'd been using magic to do the same to everyone else.

I, an archmage of five branches, would operate as a one-man squad, seeking out and striking their ambush positions. Na-in and the pastor would serve as bait, advancing while identifying those positions. Ultimately, we'd draw the military's attention with gunfire, forcing the enemy to retreat and pushing their line back.

I adjusted my grip on my weapon.

CLACK!

"I'm off to farm remains."

The Supreme Mages split up once again.

The Jesus-freak duo / Me.

But going alone was nothing to fear. Na-in really had used his head. From the enemy's perspective, a versatile five-branch archmage like me would be a disaster!

From here on, I was alone.

Leaving the pastor and Na-in saying something behind me, I headed without hesitation for a nearby building, aimed at its glass door, and pulled the trigger. Chains were wound tightly around it to seal it shut, but that wouldn't help.

BANG!

No matter how sturdy a glass door was, a bullet would put a hole in it unless it was tempered glass. I smashed the glass, now hanging raggedly like thin wrapping, several times with my stock to clear it away, then slipped straight inside.

If whoever saw the other first won, I held an overwhelming advantage. I rolled my tongue inside my mouth.

Target. Unit 55. Kill. Five minutes. Route.

Without fog, I could feel tiny blood vessels popping, but it was bearable. Exhaustion and eye pain comparable to staying awake for thirty-six hours were much better than before, when my eyes felt crushed and tears streamed out.

The problem was that I saw something other than red footprints. A bright beam flickered like a delirious vision, then turned crimson as though dipped in blood and clung tightly to reality. Fluorescent red light began running across walls and stairs like a road's painted centerline.

Had it changed? If so, why?

For now, I followed the light, drawing my AR-15 close. It ran along tile seams and squeezed upward between pipes on the walls, gleaming like fluorescent paint. The crimson glow, like submarine lighting, sputtered with little crumb-like flecks. It was utterly bizarre.

But it certainly worked. At the top, I found a slightly open rooftop door. The strange red light extended through the gap.

I considered my options for a moment. I didn't have enough [Enchant] protection for a gunfight. But it was obvious what cutting myself here, now, with chemical munitions deployed, could lead to.

If I'd been a non-mage soldier, I'd have risked my life and charged in. But Unit 55 had trusted in magic and failed to take proper precautions, and I wasn't some non-mage who couldn't use magic. I switched the selector to safe, slung my weapon over my shoulder, and drew my bayonet.

The hand to cut was my left.

SLICE!

Blood flowed. First, I used my bloodied left hand to write on my poncho. The inscription I applied with Hand, Stage Two, [Enchant] was [Bulletproof]. On my combat boots, I inscribed [Silence]. Finally, I erased the wound with Eye, Stage Three, [Cognitive Dissonance].

I could still handle my right eye growing dimmer in exchange for removing the cut on my left hand. I just needed to avoid any worse injuries. And the way to avoid injury was to win by completely overwhelming my opponent.

Naturally, while I went to all this trouble, the enemy beyond the rooftop door seemed to have noticed me. The strange silence was proof. The huffing of a gas mask that I'd heard moments earlier had stopped.

With that eerie red light flickering across the floor, I sheathed my bayonet and tucked the AR-15 beneath my right armpit. Then I gripped and lifted my poncho's hem with my left hand, crouched, and pushed the door with my body weight.

CREEEEAK.

Amid the noisy squealing of the hinges, I dropped to one knee.

Once, I'd watched someone get swept away by machine-gun fire right in front of me. I'd learned painfully well that the human body could never withstand bullets. If hundreds of rounds a minute came flying to tear my body apart, common human knowledge dictated that I had to meekly let myself be shredded.

But now, I held a strange certainty. What faced me wasn't a machine gun, true, but I was certain I could easily stop rifle rounds.

I would survive.

With magic!

RATATATAT!

As the door swung fully open, bullets poured out. Little projectiles carrying terrifying kinetic energy generated by gunpowder hammered relentlessly away.

At my poncho, not my body.

Instead of tearing or being pierced, the [Bulletproof] poncho rippled and recoiled as though struck by heavy stones. With my left arm raised to cover my face, I could examine it closely. Dozens of bulges marking bullet impacts appeared in the blink of an eye.

The cracking sounds as my poncho caught the rounds deafened me. A high-pitched ringing filled my ears. Some rounds struck my left arm too, and I could feel bruises forming.

Then, at last, came the sound I'd been waiting for.

CLICK.

Metal parts failing to engage.

CLICK, CLICK, CLICK.

At that instant, I lowered my left arm and rested it on my knee. At last, through my gas-mask lenses, I saw the flustered Unit 55 soldier. Out of bullets, he was hurriedly changing magazines. Apparently he'd either never heard of Hand, Stage Two, [Enchant], or this was his first time encountering it.

I'd certainly given him enough opportunity. Waiting for him to empty a thirty-round magazine practically made me a saint.

CLACK!

This time, the metallic sound was mine. I rested the AR-15 across my left arm as though mounting it and aimed at the soldier through the red-dot sight. My index finger had long since settled on the trigger. At the click of my selector, the Unit 55 soldier hurriedly put down his weapon.

CLATTER!

"Wait...!"

"I'll only fire once."

Heavy recoil traveled into my shoulder. Only after the man crumpled with a hole in his chest did I get up. You could call it a waste of time, but I'd learned that the [Bulletproof] enchantment was far more useful than expected. Good enough.

Then Na-in's telepathy reached me.

'Je-min. Can we move?'

Yeah. Let's go.

I took a couple of magazines and a grenade from the Unit 55 soldier's corpse, stowed them in my belt and pockets, and walked across the rooftop. Naturally, my poncho's hem swayed beneath Seongnam's drone-filled skies, amid winds stirred by bombardment. The weather was starting to warm, and I could feel sweat gathering, but there was nothing to be done.

Not like I could take my mask off with gas everywhere.

But a certain conviction came to me. My magic had temporarily grown stronger. Eye, Stage Three, [Cognitive Dissonance], the incredible effects of Stage Two, [Enchant], and the sudden change in Eye, Stage One, [Cognitive Expansion]—none of it had any reason to happen. Besides, under clear skies without a trace of fog, the penalties couldn't possibly be this mild.

There was only one possible cause. I'd destroyed a low-level heart mage's remains.

Destroying a low-level mage's remains could provide a performance boost even if advancing a stage was out of the question.

If I was boosted... could I get a taste of Heart, Stage Two, [Improved Physical Abilities] too?

Inside my mask, I licked the sweat running down the groove above my lip. Salty. Filthy bodily waste, but it cleared my head right up.

Worth a shot.

I stopped at the rooftop railing and looked at a building on the next block. The temporary boost gained by destroying a low-level mage's remains filled me with boundless confidence. Obviously, since this wasn't really Heart, Stage Two, there'd be clear limits, but I wasn't trying to do anything all that incredible.

How frustrated had I been watching Se-jun all this time? Sometimes I wondered how he could possess that power and do so little with it.

Hit really fucking hard? Carry a really fucking powerful gun?

There was a more efficient way, but Se-jun was a born ground-pounder and hadn't used it.

CLACK.

With my rifle tucked under my arm, I backed up a few steps. The gap between rooftops. About five or six stories up—falling would obviously hurt like fuck. It was roughly a lane and a half wide too. Try it with mediocre leg strength, and you'd become a human slime.

But I was a mage.

Above the shaking bombardment, flying drones, echoing gunfire, and the choking breaths of people dying from gas, I stood at the highest point of this hell, my poncho's hem fluttering.

Huff.

I stepped forward. My breathing inside the mask was subdued.

Huff.

My steps became a run. I planted a foot on the railing and leaped.

I was in the sky. Wingless, airborne for a few infinitely brief seconds.

Below my feet, flailing as though I were walking on air, I saw Na-in and the pastor weaving between abandoned vehicles. They were in combat. Muzzle flashes flickered as they fired at something.

Then the space beneath my feet became solid concrete.

THUD!

I rolled a little. The rifle dug into my shoulder, leaving it slightly sore, but for someone who lived with burning pain in his left hand, this was tolerable.

The tears in my eyes were because it was sad that people were dying. Fuck.

I got up and concentrated. Na-in's telepathy was hammering at my mind like spam emails.

'Je-min, the taekwondo school! Third floor!'

I turned and readjusted my rifle. Honestly, this was insane. Even I thought I looked fucking awesome. A mage racing across rooftops, poncho fluttering as he answered his allies' calls? How could I not get high on being a Supreme Mage?

But the sight of a machine gunner firing short bursts from a bipod set up in a third-floor doorway sobered me up a little. The moment he started managing barrel heat instead of spraying wildly, that bastard became someone who absolutely had to die.

CLACK!

I dropped to one knee, took position, and aimed. That was when the strange red beam flickered and settled into my red-dot sight. Eye, Stage One, reinforced by tongue magic and boosted yet again, was truly overwhelmingly effective. Like augmented reality, it superimposed an aiming point onto the world, showing me where to shoot.

No zeroing. No sight alignment. The aiming point accounted for every tiny change occurring as I steadied my breathing and placed my finger on the trigger. With this, I barely needed optics.

At last, when the machine gunner's brow settled within the cross-shaped reticle, I spoke briefly.

"One shot."

BANG!

Heavy recoil pushed back, and a spent casing tumbled away. A fountain of blood erupted above the man's head. Unit 55 used heart mages as machine gunners. I looked for an assistant gunner to reload and connect ammunition belts, and spotted him pulling a poncho over himself after realizing they'd been sniped.

Magic script. A tactic similar to the Skin-tapeworm's. The assistant gunner turned his poncho around to expose its ear-branch magic script, trying to neutralize a potential sniper.

A pointless attempt. Tricks like that didn't work on a five-branch mage like me.

I squeezed the trigger smoothly once more.

BANG!

Another casing tumbled away. The soldier beneath the script-covered poncho twitched, collapsed, and died.

'Unit 55 thinks there's a sniper and is withdrawing. Friendly drones are coming too. They won't distinguish friend from foe!'

Just take the pastor and get out of there.

After replying to Na-in telepathically, I watched the drones approaching in the distance, then abruptly hurled myself over the rooftop railing. To reach the next rooftop—and shake off the drones.

THUMP!

Apart from a slight ache in my knees, I was completely uninjured.

Insane. Just a taste of Heart, Stage Two, and it was already exhilarating...!

'Je-min, I'll send telepathic messages every two minutes. Gauge the range and keep moving with us.'

Okay. I acknowledged that Na-in was smart. But when it came to applying magic, I was a step ahead again.

Grinning, I adjusted my grip and ducked toward the building's stairs to avoid the drones, my eyes moving in search of that eerily gleaming red beam.

I smacked my lips in regret. If low-level mage remains were easier to acquire, I'd carry them around. No idea how long this boost would last, but I had to milk it for everything it was worth!

Decision made, I moved again. Na-in would head toward the enemy, and the pastor would follow him, so I just had to head toward the enemy too.

Right now, the Supreme Mages were specialists in magical warfare.

Supreme.

That name was no empty boast anymore!